As a semi-sweet booze and currant scent with Ribena aspirations, Musc Nomade starts big and almost gourmand before settling into low-level powdery hum of a musk that desiccates over time. Once itís calmed down, a cushion-like effect takes over and the scent feels like the olfactory equivalent of an alpaca blanket. Itís soft and quite powdery but with enough berry leaf remaining to anchor it as interesting. But as a musk fragrance, itís PG-rated ó disappointingly so.
A completely perplexing juice. When I first smelt it, it did nothing for me, I persisted, loved it briefly and then couldn't smell a thing, I tried again and adored it, next time it was gone again. I bought a bottle going cheaply on eBay and cursed myself for wasting money, then wore it again and rejoiced. Musc Nomade is a fickle friend.
I agree with other reviewers that the chemistry of it doesn't lend itself to the musk asnomics out there - my boyfriend (who seems not to be able to smell any synthetics at all) thought I was joking when I asked him to smell my wrist as he couldn't detect anything at all.
On the days it works, it really works: soft, warm, snuggly and a beautifully put together formulation; rosey, fuzzy and woody, sophisticated and gentle - that old "cashmere wrap" trope.
On the days it doesn't...Well, it just doesn't.
I hesitate to say this, but Khiel's Musk Oil does the job far more efficiently.
Update: Ok. I've completely changed my mind on this one. It's turned out to be a new favourite and an easy go-to office frag for days when I need comfort without having to "say" anything with my choice of perfume. It's so cosy. I apologise Musc Nomade, I judged you to early, you're lovely.
13th February, 2015 (last edited: 14th April, 2015)
This is a sad, sad day. After a long day at work, I arrived at home to find a delivered package containing Musc Nomade and Ambre Fetiche. With a wagging tail I tore open the package and eagerly applied Musc Nomade to my wrist and started huffing away. Snort. Snort. WTF? Snort. Oh no. I am not able to smell parts of this composition. The musc note is incredibly faint and I think Iím detecting ambrette, but otherwise only pale amber with a touch of chicken soup fades in and out. As such, I will refrain from rating Musc Nomade because, sob, I just canít smell it! Take my advice: do not blind buy Musc Nomade!!!!
Next day edit: OK, this is completely perplexing, but now I think I can smell the composition. The musc is almost a texture, not a discernable note. Iím finding the MN experience very subtle and almost spooky. Itís like the ghost of someoneís flesh lingers in the air, but it is difficult to really describe what that flesh smells like; itís sort of like a faded memory that keeps snuggling with you. This is hands down the creepiest review Iíve written and Iím going to stop typing now.
Two days later: Yes, I can definately smell blackberry-musc accord, but the problem is that I need to dump half the bottle on my head to detect the whole composition.
Final verdict: MN is a unique, comforting musc with an almost haunting beauty. It is, however, wimpy beyond belief.
My lack of connection with this one doesn't have to do with price or indifference. It's a conflict with one of the notes. I react to many of the Goutals in the same way, so assume it is a signature chemical note or accord used by this house.
It turned sour and slightly gassy on me within a few minutes, making it altogether un-lovely.
As usual, I attribute it to a synthetic allergy on my part. It may be a lovely fragrance, well-done, etc. but I have no way of knowing. It's a decided thumbs-down for me.
This is lovely. But I confess, I cannot always smell it. It hovers just inside then outside my perceptual field and on some days...is vanished. It reminds me a bit of pastry, dog paws and cat fur. A milky translucent slightly sweet spiced animalic dimension gives this "white" musk its character. A skin scent. A bit haunting, but maybe only to those of us who are not detecting the whole composition.